Fear and DOOMING
by Mr. Smith1991
Summary: Zim, after receiving a mandatory vacation from the Tallest, heads to the glamorous, glitzy planet of Casinulon for rest and relaxation. Taking Skoodge, GIR and, unbeknownst to him, Dib and Gaz, along with him on the trip. This can only end badly.
1. Chapter 1

((Author's note: This story was to be my first submission, however I decided to put it on the back burner in favor of writing The Sidekick Shuffle. Naturally it's a little rough around the edges, but any new chapters should be a little more polished.))

The Renolian System. An unremarkable collection of barren, desert planets circling a blazing star which cloaked it's satellites in rays of eye-watering sunlight and blistering, sweat-inducing heat. The Renolian System had but one thing to offer known-space: Casinulon, the most infamous gambling world in the Galaxy. Space-faring races from across the many worlds would swarm to Casinulon to indulge in flashy entertainment, enormous buffet tables and downward spirals of self-destructive gambling.

It was fleeing from this planet that System Marshall Snuurk had apprehended the four idiots now sitting in the Questioning Chamber of Mind-Numbing Dullness and Uncomfortable Seating.

"ZIM DEMANDS TO MAKE HIS INTERGALACTIC COMMUNICATION." Shouted the first of the four idiots, a rather diminutive member of the Irken wearing an Acapulco shirt atop his uniform. "Zim has the right to make an Intergalactic Transmission!"

System Marshall Snuurk, an overweight, orange, reptilian creature with a bushy mustache and a ten-gallon hat gave a growl as he responded: "We gave you your call! We gave you THREE CALLS! Quit standin' on mah pastry an' SIT DOWN!"

The Irken known as Zim, crossed his arms, hopped down from the table and settled back in his seat with a sulk. Snuurk gave a grunt, before taking a bit out of his pastry, ignoring the irken's bootprint upon it.

"You boys know how much trouble yer in?!" The middle-aged lawman exclaimed, large, semi-masticated globules of pastry spraying from his mouth. "Destruction of Property! Assault and Battery! POOR TIPPING!"

"Um, excuse me... horrible, space-law enforcement officer." The fourth idiot, a member of an unrecognized species possessing an enormous cranium and wearing a tattered bellhop's uniform began, "But, I'm not really WITH this guys, so if you can just drop me off back on planet Earth-"

"None of you is leavin' this room 'til I gets some answers! STOP EATIN' THE TABLE!" Snuurk shouted at the third idiot, a squealing, giggling, malfunctioning automaton attempting to take another large bite out of the interview table.

"Gee, officer..." Began idiot number two, a fat, short, ugly irken possessing several injuries, "... It's not like anyone got hurt, right? Can't you just let us go with a warning?"

"What part of "Assault and Battery" do you not understand?!" The lawman growled. "In all mah years of apprehendin' scum an' scum-like by-products, I have NEVER beheld the amount of carnage an' destruction that you four have caused! One of my officers started vomiting in rage so hard that he TURNED INSIDE OUT!"

"So, is that a no or...?"

"Be quiet, Skoodge!"

"I'm just askin', Zim!"

"SERIOUSLY! I had nothing to do with this!"

"SILENCE, HOTELSLAVE!"

"AH FOUND GUM!"

Snuurk gave a loud, burbling roar: "SHADDAAAAAAAP!"

The idiots were silenced, save for the giggling of the robot as it pulled a piece of ancient, pre-chewed gum from the underside of the table and proceeded to eat it. The System Marshall lifted his hat and ran a claw through his greasy combover, attempting to recompose himself. "A'right... let's start from the beginin'-"

"ZIM SHALL TELL THE TALE!" Proclaimed the first idiot, leaping upon the table, yet again, much to Snuurk's displeasure. "It all started two days ago..."

* * *

The Massive. The largest ship in all of the known universe. A ship so large it could eclipse the sun of almost any world. Possessing enough firepower to turn the surface of a planet to glass, The Massive had been a joint-research project between Irken Empire and the Vortian Commonwealth that had exceeded the expectations of both parties in terms of power and sheer size. This ship was the rise and fall of empires, the power to choose the fate of entire worlds.

In retrospect, designing such a vessel was probably one of the most monumentally stupid ideas ever concieved by sentient beings, considering that it was inevitably going to fall into the wrong hands. Said wrong hands belonged to none other than current leaders of the Irken Empire, two tall, gangly idiots known as Tallest Red and Tallest Purple.

"So, you're saying the humans use this... what is this?" Inquired the Crimson Colored Co-Tallest.

"An Umbrella, my Tallest!" Zim answered, via intergalactic communication screen from the deepest, darkest bowels of his lair.

"Riiiight, so you're saying they use this to keep the rain off of them..."

"Yes."

"... but, didn't you say they were immune to the toxic effects of rain?"

"Yes."

"I see..." The Red Tallest said, stroking his chin in thought, "But, then... what's the point?"

"To prevent uncomfortable sogginess!" The Invader replied, hands folded behind his back and a look of smug, self-satifaction upon his face. Red was just about to comment when his twin cohort interjected.

"Oh, yeah. I hate that!" The Purple inclined Tallest said, waving about the aforementioned umbrella, still unopened. Red sighed at the spastic movements of his counterpart, slouching in his command chair upon the bridge of The Massive. This had been the fifth Earth "Relic" that Zim had sent them this week and despite the sheer, asinine size of The Massive, they were running out of places to put all this junk.

"So, does it emit some kind of forcefield or...?" The Purple Tallest asked, continuing to flail the umbrella around.

"Oh no, my Tallest. You simply slide your hand under that part there and-" Zim explained as Purple managed to open the umbrella, surprising his Co-Tallest in the process.

_Fwoomp!_

"Dah!"

"Oooooooh!" The umbrella's final form seemed to impress the violet-themed, alien overlord. He rested the device upon his shoulder, twirling it around in an idle fashion. "I like it!"

Red raised an antenna briefly at his cohort's fascination before addressing Zim, "Yes, well... Good find, Invader Zim! As a reward for this discovery..." He began as Purple discovered how to open and close the device.

_Fwoomp-Fwup! Fwoomp-Fwup!_

"... take the rest of the week off!" Red said, an idea sprouting within his crimson-eyed cranium.

"Take the... week... off?" Zim asked, confused.

"Yes! In recognition for your hard work, we are giving you, Invader Zim... a vacation." Red announced with a grin.

"But-"

"A MANDATORY vacation! No work! No Mission! Just vacation... STUFF!"

Zim saluted as he responded: "Very well, my Tallest! I shall endeavor to have "fun"!"

"Good! And remember..." Red continued, unaware of his purple-partner's giggling in the background, the handle of the umbrella hovering behind crimson Tallest's neck as he instructed, "During the length of this vacation, you are not to contact us under ANY circumstances! This is YOU-time, Zim! Enjoy it! End Transmission-"

"Gotcha!" Purple exclaimed, yanking upon the umbrella as he hooked the handle around his cohorts neck.

"GAK!" Red exclaimed as the transmission ended. Purple laughed hysterically as his fellow overlord fell to the floor, clutching his throat and wheezing, "I think I swallowed my voicebox!"

Purple chuckled as he returned to twirling the umbrella as he rested it upon his shoulder. "So, what was with givin' Zim a vacation? S'not like he DESERVES one and... y'know, he's horrible!"

Red coughed as he managed to push himself up, "The way I figure it, he's a workoholic, and without a steady supply of workohol, he'll end up doing stupid and self-destructive just trying to entertain himself! 'Sides, we don't have to hear from him for the rest of the week. Now gimme that umbrella!"

"No! It's mine!"

"Give it!" Red exclaimed as he lunged at his fellow Tallest, attempting to wrestle the device away from him.

"AHHHHH!"

* * *

Meanwhile, back on Earth. Zim stood staring at the transmission screen. A vacation? When was the last time he, the greatest Invader in the entirety of the Irken Empire had ever NEEDED a vacation. Never! That's when! Sure, he tended to slack off a fair bit in whatever task he was required to perform, but a vacation, actual time set aside for recreation, he did not know WHAT to do with that.

"Hm. I suppose I'll just... do... nothing." He said, standing perfectly still for a good fifteen minutes before coming to a decision.

"Wow! This is boring... I must be doing it wrong... I need an expert on the subject!" The Irken exclaimed, the perfect person to inquire coming immediately to mind as he rushed off to the surface level of his base.

* * *

Sitting upon the enormous, living room sofa staring at an equally enormous television screen sat Zim's minion: GIR. The robot in question has spent the greatest amount of time throughout Zim's Mission to conquer Earth doing absolutely nothing productive, preferring to spend his time indulging in snacks, television and the occational zany adventure. GIR was an expert on non-productivity, he wrote the proverbial book on non-productivity.

Unfortunately, he was also insane, so said book was ineligible. Luckily, sitting beside him on the couch was an individual whom would suit Zim's needs: The Ex-Invader Skoodge. True, whilst Skoodge's résumé DID have a few feathers in it (such as being the first Invader of Operation Impending Doom 2 to conquer his assigned planet) he was currently unemployed and living off of his longtime, though abusive, friend: Zim.

"... This show is AMAZING!" Skoodge exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air in jubilation. "Whoo! Eat that foie gras chili! Show 'em who's boss!"

It was about at this point that Zim made his entrance through the lift in the middle of the living room floor, "Skoodge!"

"Oh hey, buddy!" The fat Irken said, smiling at his smeethood friend, "You're just in time! This guy's about to eat a sandwich made entirely of BACON!"

Zim visibly shuddered in disgust as he the beheld the vile images upon the screen. "SWEET SPACE DOOKIE, THAT'S THE MOST DISGUSTING SIGHT I HAVE EVER SEEN!" He screamed as he sat upon the couch, "Hey, GIR. Turn it up."

The room was soon filled with an orchestra of slurps, chomps, grunts, angry kitchen staff and various gastrointestinal noises. The three sat in silence upon the coach, entranced by the antics of the fat human. Zim was the first to break said silence. "So, what's the plot?"

"Well, he's this big, fat guy." Skoodge started to explain.

"Ahuh."

"And he travels the world."

"I see."

"Visiting various resturants."

"Of course."

"Then he breaks into their kitchen and starts eating all their food until they kick him out!" The fat Irken concluded. "So, how'd the Tallest like the thingy?"

"They started fighting over it after the transmission ended." Zim responded.

Skoodge raised an antenna at that, "How do you know that if the transmission- Oh, look! He's having another heart attack!" He exclaimed, pointing at the television.

"Ooooooooh, his heart's gunna 'SPLOOOOODE!" Cheered GIR.

"Anyway..." The scrawny Irken said, staring for a long moment at the television as the fat human was prepped for heart-transplant surgery, "... Skoodge, I need your advice."

"Gosh! Really?!" The Ex-Invader said, clasping his hands together as he turned towards his friend with a grin, clearly more excited by the prospect of helping his one-and-only friend than by the chance to watch the lead surgeon make the first incision with a chainsaw.

"Yeah, need to know how to be a useless pile of garbage all day." Zim said, adding at the end: "Like you, Skoodge."

"Heheh! Well, it ain't easy!" Skoodge chuckled, seemingly unmoved by the soulcrushing statement made by his only friend. "Say, whaddya need to know it for? Next evil plan?"

Zim waved his hand, "Naw, no plan... The Tallest have awarded my latest discovery with a mandatory vacation for the rest of the week."

"A VACATION! Wow! The Tallest have never given anyone a vacation before!" The portly alien was awestruck.

"Yes, yes. Well I AM their GREATEST INVADER, Skoodge." Zim announced, posing like he was king of the spacemen.

"You got that right, buddy!" Skoodge concurred, delivering an enthusiastic right hook to the air. "Say... instead of doin' nothing... how 'bout we take an ACTUAL vacation?!"

The Invader snapped his head towards fat friend, "EXPLAIN!"

"I'm talkin' Casinulon, baby!" The retired Invader spread his arms wide. "Planet of lights, endless buffets and downward spirals of self-destructive behavior!"

"Casinulon? The infamous gambling planet? Hm, whilst the prospect of you squandering your hard-earned monies in a fruitless pursuit of greater wealth does hold great appeal to Zim, I do not think that this activity would last the entire week's end!" Zim said, stroking his chin.

"Gamblin' away all my monies while you laugh at my misfortune is but a small portion of the list of things to do on Casinulon I wrote! Here, check it out!" Skoodge explained as he handed his one-and-only friend a grease-stained list.

The Invader's eyes scanned over the list quickly, grunting and nodding over the activities as a wicked grin spread across his face, "Yesss, I especially like this last one! Zim approves of this plan, Skoodge!"

"Woohoo! Casinulon, here we come!" The slovenly alien cheered, hopping off of the couch.

"GIR!" Zim shouted at his metallic minion. The robot saluted, duty mode activated at his master's command. "Head into the city and see if you can acquire some suitcases from the primitive human craftsmen! It's time to start packing!"

"Okie-dokey!" The automaton squealed, activating his jet-boosters and sending himself crashing out the window. A moment later he calmly reentered the house through the front door and slipped on the disguise he had forgotten in his haste. He then reactivated his jet boosters and broke the remaining window as he departed.

"Skoodge! Withdraw your life-savings! We'll need funding for this trip!" The Invader commanded, pointing at his fat friend.

Skoodge held up a briefcase full of Irken Currency. "Done and done!"

"Computer! Prep the Voot Cruiser for travel!" Zim shouted towards the ceiling.

"Yeah, sure." The Base's A.I. said, dismissively.

"Prepare yourself, Casinulon! Zim is coming for you! REST AND RECREATION WILL BE MINE!" The Irken cackled maniacally.

* * *

Meanwhile at a city mall, in an outlet caitering to luggage of all shapes, sizes and smells, a young boy possessing the largest of heads and his sibling, a creature of darkness, hatred and Elite Gaming Skills in the form of a little girl, were shopping for backpacks to replace those they had lost in a recent, unfortunate incident.

"I swear, Dib..." The female began, giving her brother a stink eye so intense the wallpaper began to peel, "The next time you drag me through the park after some stupid paranormal-"

"Oh, c'mon! How was I suppose the werewombat would eat our backpacks?! Seriously, that's like the last thing I thought they would eat!" The big-headed boy retorted before mumbling, "I thought they would go for our ears..."

"You're just lucky my game wasn't in there! If it was, I would have dragged you down to the deepest, darkest pit of-"

"Gaz, look!" Dib interrupted, pointing across the outlet towards a towering pile of suitcases being carried by a manic robot in a stitched, green dog-suit. "It's Zim's deranged robot minion! What's he doing here? What does he need all those suitcases for?!"

"Maybe they had enough of your big, annoying head. Maybe they decided to move so they don't have to hear your STUPID voice, anymore." Gaz said, tossing aside a backpack which possessed a floral pattern that offended her. "Stupid, lucky robot dog."

"Who knows the kind of EVIL, ALIEN... STUFF Zim is planning to fill those suitcases with?!" The big-headed boy shuddered at the thought, those suitcases could most definitely be filled with stuff.

"Evil, alien underpants?" The Doom-Child suggested, holding up a backpack in the shape of a demonic pig to the light in consideration. She could wear this, she supposed.

"We'd better follow him just to be sure!" The colossal-craniumed child stated as he began to tail the robot dog.

"Whatever, Dib." Gaz dismissed her brother as she purchased her new backpack. Concluding that her sibling would most likely end up following the annoying automaton right back to Zim's Base, she decided she would head over there to watch her big-headed brother get pummeled mercilessly by robot gnomes. That was always entertaining.


	2. Chapter 2

The System Marshall pinched his brow as the first idiot proceeded to give detailed exposition about their preparations for the trip. It was when Zim started talking about contemplating which of his many identical uniforms he should take on the trip that the lawman finally had enough.

"SHUT UP! Just skip to the part where you ARRIVE on Casinulon!" Snuurk shouted, slamming his fist on the table.

"Okay, fine! It seems as though the concepts of style and fashion are lost upon your primitive brainmeats!" The Irken scoffed before continuing.

* * *

Wormholes, folds in the dimensions of time and space that allow matter which passes through them to travel great distances across the universe. Although the technology to create these anomalies at will was not widely available to the spacefaring community, stable, natural wormholes were widely utilized for commercial use and had helped shape many a civilization.

Plus, they just looked plain neat. Of course, after traveling through enough of them, the experience loses it's novelty and becomes quite mundane. This is what the occupants of the Voot Cruiser had quickly discovered after taking their sixth wormhole trip on their way to the Renolian System. The worn-down, old spaceship had begun it's trip to Casinulon early Friday evening and it was Saturday morning when they finally exited the last wormhole and arrived at the glitzy planet.

"YES, GIR! WE'RE HERE! OKAY?! STOP ASKING!" Was the first thing to leave Zim's mouth as they exited the anomaly. "After asking COUNTLESS TIMES, yes... we are here! ALRIGHT?!"

The annoying automaton stared at his Irken master for a long moment. "... Are we there, yet?"

The Invader just sighed as they approached the planet, passing by an enormous, flashing sign that read: Welcome to Fabulous Casinulon Renolian. And just under that was the planet's motto: What you gamble on Casinulon, STAYS on Casinulon!

As they entered the atmosphere, the glitz, glamour and blinding light displays of the gambling world hit the crew of the Voot Cruiser like they had just opened a fridge full of rotten eggs. It was absolutely overwhelming. Skoodge and GIR pressed their noseless facial-areas against the glass as they looked on in awe at the surface of the gaudy city-planet.

"Skoodge... SKOODGE!" The Invader shouted as he threw the Almighty Tallest Bobblehead, that he had had resting ontop of the ship's control console, at the chubby, awestruck Irken.

"Huh? What? Oh, right!" The portly, retired Invader held up the navigation tablet. "Alright, here are the coordinators for our hotel."

* * *

The ship came about, landing in front of Caligularn the Degenerate's Palace, one of the biggest hotel-and-casinos on the planet. No sooner had the Voot Cruiser touched down when several bellhops swarmed the vessel. As the hotel slaves unloaded the ship's cargo, a large-headed, homo sapien sprung forth from the hold, falling to his knees and gasping for air.

"Oxygen! Sweet, sweet OXYGEN!" Dib exclaimed in rapture as he sucked up all the O2 his lungs could possibly hold and then some. "... This is oxygen, right?"

One of the bellhops just shrugged at the large-craniumed stowaway and continued to unload the ship's luggage. A second human slid casually out of the hold, landing on her feet and looking a lot less concerned over her near-suffocation. Dib beheld the new, alien scenery in awe and bewilderment whilst his curmudgeonly sister looked on in disinterest and mild disgust.

Gaz scoffed, "THIS is what we spent a day locked in a trunk for?"

"I know, isn't it just AMAZING, Gaz?! We're probably the first human beings ever to set foot on this planet!"

"Yeah, about that..." The Doom-Child began as she looked at a Performing Nightly poster of an aged human with a pompadour and cybernetic life support implants. _Baby, Please... let me die!_ appeared to be the headlining song.

"HEY! Careful with that luggage! That luggage belongs to ZIM! I AM ZIM! That one is Skoodge's, you can drop that one." The Irken Invader shouted at the bellhops.

The big-headed boy was suddenly shocked back to reality as he realized that if his sworn nemesis found out that the humans had stowed away on his spaceship, he might just be a little miffed. Dib darted behind a nearby wall in a flash, his sibling just rolled her eyes and strode over to the wall at a leasurely pace. As Gaz turned the corner, she found her brother hunched over a dufflebag, putting on a disguise.

The plum-haired pain princess gave a sigh, regretting the words she uttered as soon as she spoke them. "What are you doing, now?"

"Zim's bound to recognize me if a step out into the open as my usual, human self! But, with the right disguise, I can blend into the crowd and watch his every move! He came to this planet for a reason, Gaz..." The colossal-craniumed savior of Earth said as he finished putting on his disguise, he turned around and struck a heroic pose. "... and I intend to find out why!"

Dib was a sight to behold, indeed. He had ditched his usual attire for a silver bodysuit, a skin-tight cowl with two antennas covered his abnormally large head and he had smeared green paint inconsistently upon his face, giving his skin a splotchy look. He looked like he just walked off the set of a fifties science-fiction movie. The big-headed boy looked at his sister with a big grin on his face. "How do I look, Gaz?!"

The daughter of Membrane stared at her sibling for a moment, wondering how it was possible such an idiot could be related to her. "Yeah, you're definitely an alien."

There was two ways one could take that comment, Dib chose to take it in the way that made him feel less like a dork. "Thanks, Gaz! Now, it's not a perfect disguise-"

"Y'think?"

"-but, if I stick to the crowds and keep a fair distance away from Zim, I should be able to keep an eye on him without him noticing me!" He slipped on a pair of goggles to hide his human eyes before taking off towards the nearby staff entrance. "Wish me luck!"

Gaz was about to wish her sibling a painful demise in a burning building when a chip worth one-hundred credits fell from the pocket of a passing alien and landed at her feet. Raising an eyebrow, the girl swiped the chip, deciding she may as well entertain herself whilst she was stuck on this gaudy planet, she headed towards the casino.

As Dib slipped through the staff entrance door he found himself face to handle with several cleaning utensils leaned up next to the door. Sufficed to say they all fell to the ground with a clatter in an instant, alerting the shift manager that was currently ordering around the staff. The orange-ish yellow-skinned reptilian alien whipped around at the sound of the clattering brooms and mops and affixed the big-headed boy with a glare. Dib froze, hoping that the creature's sight worked on movement. It did not.

"Ugh, clumsy, little... you must be the new guy, then! Well, get your uniform on!" The Renolian commanded, pointing one of it's razor-sharp claws towards a rack of bellhop uniforms. The son of Membrane decided that the best course of action would be to obey the large, terrifying lizardman and quickly grabbed one of the uniforms. As soon as he slipped it on over his silver bodysuit, the shift manager already had a job waiting for him. "Couple of guests ordered the deluxe package! Means you'll be tending to their needs all day! Now get outta my sight!"

With a rather tactless kick, the work-stressed Renolian sent the new bellhop sailing out the door into the lobby. Dib skidded and tumbled across the floor before his enormous skull collided with the front desk.

"-And here's your personal bellhop, as requested, sir!" Said the perky, young, Vort girl serving at the Check-In as she gestured towards the big-headed boy as he groggily pushed himself up, coming face to face with the people he would be tending to for the rest of the day.

"EXCELLENT! Zim has always wanted his own hotelslave!"

O, what a cruel, cruel hand fate had dealt Dib this day.


	3. Chapter 3

Zim had, of course, not recognized that the bellhop assigned to him for the day was infact his arch-nemesis in a poorly concieved disguise and had the big-headed boy drag the dolly stacked three times his height with suitcases. As they made their way through the huge, marble-columned lobby towards the elevator, Dib couldn't help but to look around in amazement inbetween grunting painfully as he was forced to haul the Irkens' ludicrous amount of luggage like some kind of space donkey.

The big-headed boy decided that, despite the back-breaking labor, it was kind of cool walking around on an alien world, at least Zim hadn't discovered him, yet.

"YEW LOOK JUS' LIKE DIB!" The Irken's annoying automaton suddenly declared, pointing a metallic finger right at the colossal-craniumed child. Well, so much for his cover. He was about to vigorously deny the accusation, like a fat man denying a salad, when Zim beat him to it.

"Don't be foolish, GIR! We left the Dib-smell back on Earth, remember! This hotelslave, while certainly hideous and smelly like the Dib-monkey, is obviously NOT the Dib!" The Irken crossed his arms as he concluded his point, "His head is too small. The Dib's head is at least TWICE as horribly gigantic!"

"MY HEAD'S NOT BIG!" The savior of Earth shouted out of habit, quickly slapping his hands over his mouth as he realized his mistake.

"Y'see?" Zim gestured towards Dib's exclamation as if it proved his point.

"I dunno, buddy..." Skoodge said, leaning in and narrowing his eyes at the disguised earthling, "He does look an AWFUL lot like-"

"ENOUGH! I did not travel halfway across the Galaxy to talk about the Dib and his hideous head! I will hear no more of this foolishness! Infact..." The Irken held out his hand, "Skoodge, give me a Monie."

The portly Irken shrugged and handed his friend a One Monie Note. Zim turned to the aggravating android and presented him with the note.

"GIR, take this monie and go play with that slot machine over there!" The Invader said as he pointed the robot towards a nearby Change Machine.

The annoying automaton gave a happy squeal, zipping over to the machine in a flash to insert the monie into it. He was soon greeted with the satisfying sound of coins spilling into the pot. "WHOO! JACKPOT!"

"You're on a roll, GIR! Don't stop now!" Zim shouted encouragingly at his cybernetic sycophant before turning back to his fat friend,

"That should keep him busy for the rest of the day. Now... TO THE HOTEL ROOM!"

GIR continued to reinsert his "winnings" into the machine as his master and company headed for the elevator. He took a moment to wave at the passing, plum-haired human as she headed into the casino, one-hundred monie chip in hand. The Doom-Child took a long look around the expansive gambling hall, examining the various machines and gambling tables whilst calculating their probability. Finally, she found a table with odds she liked.

"Space Poker, huh?" Gaz gave a shrug, heading towards the table she pushed her way past an alien with a stupidly happy grin on his face. "Outta the way, pinhead."

"Heh, alrighty!" Aforementioned pinhead, which was actually more of a floating cone than a pin, said as he widened his grin and floated to the side, letting the human pass before continuing on his way, returning to his friends at the bar: a gangly, four-armed creature with a penchant for terrible ideas and a rather stressed-looking Vortian.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this..." The horn-headed alien spoke to the green-skinned creature beside him, anger rising in his voice. "You told me you had a system!"

"I did!" The Vortian's companion objected.

"Your "SYSTEM" was to just keep gambling and HOPE that you would eventually win!" The Vortian was standing upon the barstool at this time, pointing towards his idiot friend. "YOU LOST ALL OUR MONIES! How are we supposed to fund our Resistance, now?!"

"Yeah, guess it ain't a perfect system. My bad."

Lard Nar sighed, he supposed this situation was as much his fault as it was Spleenk's. "Well, we better get back to the ship and break the news to the rest of the Resisty, no point in delaying the inevitable."

"THERE AIN'T?!" Shloonktapooxis cried in shock.

The Vortian held his head in his hands, the sound of a nearby slot machine hitting jackpot successfully censoring him. "I have the worst #$%ing lieutenants."

"Aw, c'mon! At least the trip wasn't a total loss!" Spleenk tried to reassure the depressed revolutionary.

"Yeah! The buffet was awesome!" Shloonktapooxis pitched in.

"Can you believe how fresh and lively their plooka was? I swear, it's still squirmin' around in there!" Spleenk said, poking himself in the belly.

The two idiots continued to gush about the awe-inspiring buffet as the group exited the gambling hall. It was then that something caught Lard Nar's goggle-clad eye, the revolutionary stopped mid-stride, causing his comrades to bump into him.

"LOOK!" The Vortian exclaimed, pointing dramatically across the room to a change machine being used by a small, insane robot. "That's a SIR Unit! One of the most valuable tools used by the Irken Invaders!"

"Really? That's neat." Spleenk commented.

"S'awesome, man." The conehead concured.

"Get down, you fools!" Lard Nar commanded, pulling his revolutionary brethern behind a nearby column. "Who KNOWS the kind of information that android possesses?! If we can capture it, we might be able to hack into it's memory disc and access vital information that can aid our cause!"

The Resisty Members peered out from behind the column, totem-pole style, at the malfunctioning mechanical child.

"Yesss... this just might work!" Lard Nar had a sinister gleam in his eye as he spoke.

"Looks kinda junky, don't he?" Spleenk commented, not sounding as sure about this plan as his horn-headed friend.

"It's probably heavily modded. Any Invader worth his salt would have augmented their SIR Unit with several modifications! Now, it won't be easy capturing this android! Luckily, I have a plan! Shloon, I need you to- Shloon?" The Vortian was surprised to find that his cone-shaped comrade was no longer a part of their totempole. He was even further surprised to find that Shloonktapooxis was currently floating right next to their prey, a burlap sack on the ground beside him.

"Shloon! What are you-!"

GIR finally noticed the conical creature hovering next to him, waving manically at the newcomer. "HI!"

"Hey, there!" The Da'Conian (That's what I'm calling him.) exclaimed. "Y'wanna let us kidnap you so we can suck the secrets outta yer head?!"

"OKIE-DOKIE!" The annoying android squealed in response.

"GET IN DA SACK!" Shloonktapooxis gave his fellow Resistyians (Resistyites?) a big, stupid smile as GIR wiggled his way into the sack, little silver legs kicking in the air.

"Well, that was easy." Lard Nar admitted, sounding just the slightest bit disappointed, as he approached the squirming sack. "Well, let's get him to the ship, then!"

* * *

Meanwhile, several floors above, Dib had finally managed to drag the towering stack of suitcases out of the elevator and across a nearly endless hallway before finally arriving at the Irkens' room.

Zim was tapping his foot impatiently at the disguised human, "About time, Hotelslave! Now, Skoodge. Let us see what we've squandered your hard-earned monies upon!"

The Irken swiped the keycard across the sensor and the door swung open, revealing an enormous, four-bedroom suite. Complete with big-screen TV, a fully stocked bar and a hot tub.

"Woah..." Dib gasped.

"Neeeeeat." Skoodge said, grinning.

Zim took a few steps into the room, breathing deep and sigh in content, a dreamy smile upon his face. "Oh yeah, that's gooood... WELP! Back to the elevator! We've got stuff to do! Come along, Hotelslave!"

"Um, don't you want me to leave some of your luggage here?" The big-headed boy asked, hopefully.

"D'ah! Of course!" The Irken smacked himself on the forehead, extending his Pak's spider legs to reach the two suitcases on top of the pile. He threw the first one, which contained some of his stuff, into the room where it landed gracefully on the fluffy, fur rug in front of the enormous television. The second suitcase, which belonged to Skoodge, flew across the room and broke a window, plummeting down several stories before hitting a ship belonging to a family of four and causing them to crash, a pair of boxer shorts with little piggies on them stuck to their windshield, successfully ruining their vacation.

"Right, that's enough of that! TO THE BUFFET!" Zim exclaimed as he lead his meager group back to the elevator.

Dib didn't know how it was possible, but the tower of suitcases seemed even heavier, now.


	4. Chapter 4

Orbiting Casinulon, high above the atmosphere, was the Resisty Ship. A Vortian Frigate that had survived the Irken Invasion of planet Vort and the fall of the Vortian Commonwealth. Now, while it was true that a grand portion of the Irken Empire's more advanced, military technology was designed by Vort Scientists, the Vortians themselves were a peaceful race dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge and enlightenment.

In short, they were massive nerds.

So, it came as no surprise that their world was amongst the first conquered in Operation Impending Doom 2. Their entire civilization converted into a massive Research Prison. It was from this planet-wide incarceration center that Lard Nar, and several others, escaped from the clutches of the Irken Empire by hiding in outgoing garbage pods and were now fighting an ongoing war against the green-skinned oppressors. Albeit a rather one-sided war, the Irkens possessing one of the biggest, most powerful Battlecruisers in known space and an Armada that could glass the surface of entire planets, but it was a war nonetheless. That was all about to change, though. As the Resisty had just captured an android containing valuable intelligence on the Irken Empire.

At least, that's what Lard Nar thought.

In truth, the robot was actually an insane idiot by the name of GIR (Theories suggest this stood for Greatly Insane Robot.) and whatever information they were about to extract from him would be about as useful to their cause as walking onto an Irken firing range with large bulls-eyes painted upon their foreheads.

Lard Nar and his merry men, Spleenk and Shloonktapooxis, stood gathered around the captive they currently had strapped to a table in the Science Bay.

"Shloon! Remove the prisoner's sack!" Commanded the de facto leader of the Resisty as his cone-shaped lieutenant pulled the burlap sack off of the head of the cybernetic cretin with his teeth. "Welcome, robot... welcome to your DOOM!"

As vision was restored the annoying android, he gave a gasp as his eyes fell upon the Vortian in front of him.

"YEW GOTS DIBBLY-DOBBLERS!" GIR exclaimed, pulling his arms free of the restraints to point at the Vortian's thick, horn-like antennas with both hands.

"They're NOT dibbly-dobblers! Get off me!" Lard Nar shouted, pushing the robot back down to the table. Hearing snickering from his cohorts he snapped his attention back to them. "What?!"

The Da'Conian held back his giggles long enough to answer. "Dibbly-dobblers!"

"ENOUGH! They're NOT dibbly-dobblers!" The Vortian growled, picking up a couple of wires and circling the table, looming over the automaton's head. "Now, let's probe this robot's brain, shall we?!"

GIR, who was just along for the ride in almost any situation, slipped his hands back into the restraints, lying back on the table. "Okie-dokie, Mistah Spacegoat!"

The Vortian had a look most sour upon his face as he opened the robot's head and plugged the cables in, his lieutenants having burst out in laughter. "SHUT UP! Computer! Display contents of the SIR Unit's Memory Disc!"

The gathered members of the Resisty all turned towards the enormous monitor dominating one side of the room, walls of green text appearing upon the black screen. The Revolutionaries approached the screen agasp in wonder and amazement.

"This is either the most advanced encryption I have ever seen in my entire life... or complete and utter GIBBERISH!" Lard Nar pointed a finger accusingly at Spleenk. "I told you this was a stupid idea! How are we supposed to decode this?!"

Spleenk, despite this being one of the few times the terrible idea was NOT his, accepted the blame, anyway. "I dunno... maybe we can just ask him, instead?"

"Dibbly-dobblers!" Shloonktapooxis giggled.

"Fine, we'll be doing this the old-fashioned way I-" Lard Nar stood, mouth agape at the empty table behind them. "THE SIR UNIT HAS ESCAPED!"

"Of course." The Da'Conian said with a stupid smile.

"LOCK DOWN THE SHIP! We have to find him, quickly or we're all dead! Who knows what intelligence he could steal from us now that he's loose!" The Vortian commanded, sounding quite terrified.

The answer to that question, of course, is none at all.

* * *

MEANWHILE!

"I fold."

"Me, too."

"Ooh-ooh-ooh! Ahh-ahh-ahh!" Screeched the space monkey, throwing his cards face-down on the table.

"Read 'em an weep." Gaz said as she revealed the monumentally bad hand she had been dealt. The surrounding card players groaned, they had been had, yet again. This had been going on for hours, and the One-Hundred-Monie Chip that the Doom-Child had found soon became very, very small compared to the towering stacks of chips that she had accumulated.

"Give it up, boys..." One of the players said as he left the table, another willing rube quickly taking his place. "Ain't no beatin' that pokerface!"

Gaz had to admit, beating intergalactic sucker after intergalactic sucker at this game was pretty funny. Not funny enough to make her smile, mind you. But, it was entertaining enough to keep her mildly interested in decimating the wallets of all who foolishly sat at her table.

Across the hotel, the first-born child of Membrane was enjoying a brief respite in his forced servitude. Over the past couple of hours, he had been forced to drag the Irkens' towering pile of suitcases all over the massive hotel. They had visited the buffet, where Skoodge had eaten his weight in food. Then, now weighing twice as much as he had previously, proceeded to eat his weight in food, again. The group then traveled to the Casino, where the Irken vacationers were determined to try each and every table at least once. Dib was forced to drag the oppressive tower of luggage along each time they moved onto the next game, Zim seemed to have a paranoid obsession with keeping the luggage close-by. After losing a sizable portion of Skoodge's lifesavings, they decided to head to the theater, where they took in several shows including, but not limited to: a performance of Quarzian Showgirls, a comedian whose jokes caused Skoodge to laugh so hard he threw up and a Magician who made the fatal mistake of selecting Zim from the audience as a volunteer and soon found himself the recipient of several sharp objects to the torso, despite the illusion in question being a card trick and having nothing to do with aforementioned sharp objects.

The current performer was an aged singer whom had been abducted from his home planet whilst using the bathroom and was now being forcibly kept alive well beyond his natural lifespan for the sole purpose of entertaining casino patrons. Every night he begged for the sweet release of a death that would never come in the form of his gentle, crooning song.

_Baby, won't you please... just let me die!_

"Wow, that guy sings pretty good for a cyborg zombie. Huh, buddy?" Skoodge smiled at his smeethood friend, who just grunted in response. The portly Irken frowned at his sulking cohort. "Gee, Zim. What's wrong? Is it the table? It's the table, isn't it. C'mon, let's go find a new one!"

"Please, no." Dib begged the retired Invader, they had changed tables so many times already over such minor complants and each time the big-headed boy had been forced to drag the towering stack of luggage along with them.

"Bah! It's not the table, Skoodge! It's this PLACE! I should be back on Earth trying to complete my mission! Not here in this tacky... gaudy..." Zim wiggled his fingers, attempting to think of more adjectives. "... POOP den!"

Skoodge chuckled, waving over a purple-robed figure with a briefcase. "Don't worry, pal! I know what'll perk you up!"

"Gentlemen." The hooded alien said, judging by the voice and the way the robe fit it was safe to assume the creature was female. "I was contacted. I assume you possess the monies?"

"Of course!" The retired Invader said, pulling out a fat stack of monies before continuing, face darkening as he spoke. "Did you bring... the stuff?"

"See for yourself..." The anonymous alien replied as she placed the briefcase upon the table, as she opened the case, the Irkens were bathed in an intense, golden light.

"Oooooh..." They cooed, awestruck

"Oh, sorry!" The robed figure said, turning the case around and turning off the intense light before presenting the contents of the briefcase to the Irkens, again. Within the case were several colorful, paper tubes. "Pure, uncut, Flornesian Hypersugar, gentlemen."

"Skoodge! Hypersugar?!" Zim shook his head in disgust. "You used to be cool..."

The portly Irken looked at his companion in shock. "I was COOL?!"

"No. Actually, you were pretty much the most repulsive creature any of us had ever seen..." The Invader trailed off before continuing to voice his disgust. "But, this is a new low, Skoodge... Did you really think I would go along with something as depraved as this?!"

"Uhm..."

"Alright, you talked me into it! We'll take two of those big, plastic ones!" Zim said, smiling and pointing at two of the larger tubes of Hypersugar in the case.

"Fine, I'll be there in a bit..." The dealer cut off a call she had recieved whilst the Invader had his brief, moral dilemma. "Sorry, seems like someone let an insane robot loose on the ship. Whatever! Back to business! Now, gentlemen. You understand that, even by Casinulon's rather laxed laws, this stuff is still highly illegal. I appreciate your utmost discretion in this transaction."

Skoodge held up a camera, a large grin on his face. "Can we take picture for our vacation scrapbook?!"

"SURE!"

* * *

Snuurk flipped through the pictures Skoodge had taken of the transaction. The first ones showed Zim and the dealer with huge smiles on their faces (Well, the dealer's eyes made it look like she was smiling.), giving the camera big thumbs up as money and product traded hands. The photos after that showed Zim and Skoodge pouring the brightly-colored contents of the tubes into their respective mouths, Dib could be seen in the background looking slightly concerned.

The Renolian Lawman looked up at the idiots in the interview chamber. "We'll just add Purchase of Illegal Sugars to the list of offenses, shall we?"

"Hey! No fair!" The Invader complained.

"Yeah, don't we get to have a lawyer for this?" The fat Irken pitched in.

"You waved your right to legal council!"

"LIES! WE DID NO SUCH THING!" Zim was, yet again, standing upon the table. "You're a LIAR!"

"We GAVE you a lawyer! Your robot ATE him!" Snuurk exclaimed, pointing to the empty fishbowl that once housed the attorney governmentally appointed to defend the suspects.

"Oops." The Invader said, righteous indignation suddenly deflated.

"Yeah, _OOPS!_ Now get your foot outta my coffee!"


End file.
